


The Kindness of (Handsome) Strangers

by ByTheAngell (SomeLittleInfamy)



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Christmas Eve, Fluff, M/M, New Year's Eve, holiday fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 04:27:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17094029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SomeLittleInfamy/pseuds/ByTheAngell
Summary: Alec wants to go home for the holidays for the first time in years, but the universe seems to be working against him.That is, until a bartender steps in to lend his assistance, moved by the spirit of the holidays... and maybe a little tug of his heartstrings.





	The Kindness of (Handsome) Strangers

**Author's Note:**

> (Inspired by the lyrics to ["Old City Bar" by The Trans-Siberian Orchestra ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JhXSLSltWvY) \-- for the [Malec Advent Calendar: Day 21 ](http://magnusandalexander.tumblr.com/malecadventcalendar2018))

One would think that Christmas Eve will be a slow day for places like old city bars, while most people travel to and from families and loved ones. And for the most part that assumption is correct - there are less people than usual but the faithful regulars still populate the stools around the counter. In the city that never sleeps, the bar’s neon light shines like a beacon to passersby with nowhere better to be on this cold, winter night.

Magnus washes out a glass between tending to the half-dozen or so patrons in the bar, music playing low in the background from the jukebox in the corner. People stuck working the holiday, or those who didn’t have a family to go home to but who also didn’t want to be  _ entirely _ by themselves, sit around the small room making small talk. Mr. Dry’s Bar (re-purposed from an old speakeasy) is a safe compromise - the solidarity of others in a similar position, but the solitariness of a bar stool. Lonely but not alone. 

The snow is still coming down outside, starting to pile onto the sides of the roads and sidewalks. Travel is a mess, but when is it not in the city? Still, Magnus is glad to be inside as the edges of the windows begin to ice up. Not that he ever leaves - with a room above the bar he doesn’t need to bother. The outside world brought him nothing but pain in the past and he’s long since stopped trying to force anything else from it. Perhaps he was never meant to love or be loved… at least that’s what he told himself a few years back when he shut himself off to it entirely.  

The bell above the door rings, confusing him at first because he doesn’t see anyone there. The sound of light footsteps draws his attention down to the young girl so bundled up in a puffy coat, wool hat and scarf that he can barely make out her eyes to be certain-

“Madzie? What are you doing here, you shouldn’t be out in this weather… or in here by yourself. You know the rules.” 

The young girl starts to reply but her voice is muffled by the scarf, and she stops to remove it before trying again. 

“I’m not by myself, I’m with you!” Madzie states with the sort of unwavering trust that only a child can possess. She rolls her eyes rather dramatically and Magnus can only imagine how much Catarina hates that particular habit she likely picked up from Ragnor. In all of the city (if he’s being honest, in the entire world at this point) Magnus has three people in his life he still cares for - the three people who wouldn’t allow him to push them away, even now when he hasn’t spoken to any of them in weeks. 

“Right. Well, I’m working, and you should get home before it gets too dark out.” He motions back out towards the door. 

“I will. I just wanted to see if you knew there was someone lost outside.” 

Magnus’ gaze turns back towards the windows, where sure enough a tall man in jeans, a long black coat, and a maroon scarf stands across the street at the payphone that hasn’t worked in years. The snow dots his dark, disheveled hair before melting, replaced by fresh flakes which repeat the process. Magnus watches for a few seconds as the man tries to pick up the phone, puts it back down, and slumps back against it in defeat. 

“He can’t get home,” Madzie adds, drawing Magnus’ attention back to the room he’s in and away from the scene outside. 

“Not that I care,” he says slowly, hoping the little girl hasn’t been out there talking to strangers on the street. “But how would you know that?” 

Madzie shrugs. “If you could be home, wouldn’t you already be there? It’s Christmas Eve.”  And with that she’s gone, out the door and into the swirling snow. 

Magnus watched her pass by the window before turning away from it. Wasn’t like he could go give the guy a ride or anything - it’s a city, cabs go by more often than necessary even in the snow. He’ll be fine. 

Or maybe not. A few moments later, drawn towards this particular building by the glowing neon in the otherwise dreary winter grey outside, the man from across the street comes into the bar with a little ‘ding’ from the bell above the door to announce his arrival. 

He’s gorgeous. It’s the first thing that registers in Magnus’ mind, entirely against his will. The next is the redness of his face, unable to distinguish if its from the cold or potentially from crying - all of his exposed skin is damp from the melted snow so it’s difficult to tell. He definitely looks upset, though. 

“What can I do for you?”  Magnus asks, doing his best to look entirely disinterested. Which he is. The guy may be attractive but that doesn’t mean Magnus needs to be invested in his problems. 

The stranger eyes him carefully, hesitating. “Do you have a phone here I could use? I tried to use the pay phone across the street, but--”

Magnus huffs a laugh. “That thing’s been broken for years. I reported it to the city a few times but, hey, it’s 2018 - I don’t even know if they bother fixing them at this point, or just let them become relics.” He gives the guy a good-natured smile at the joke but it falls flat. Not in the joking mood then. No, he supposes someone in a position to need a payphone in the snow on Christmas Eve probably isn’t having the best of days. 

 

“I wouldn’t ask except my car broke down, and my cell is totally dead, and my apartment’s at least an hour back, walking…” the attractive man continues to explain until Magnus holds up a hand to stop him. 

“Don’t worry about it. Here.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his cell phone, unlocking it before handing it over. 

The guy takes it with a quiet  _ “ _ Thanks _ ” _ , waiting just long enough to take a very telling deep breath before dialing the number. “Hey Luke, is mom there?” A pause, and the stranger grows visibly more distraught. “Hey, mom. Listen, I’m-” he swallows thickly. “I’m not going to make it home.” 

Magnus watches as the strangers face falls, any attempt at a forced smile for show gone entirely.  

“I know. I  _ know _ it’s been years. No, this isn’t about-” he spares an apologetic, embarrassed glance Magnus’ way and Magnus shrugs and turns away, seeming to give him a bit more privacy though he continues to listen. “I know this is the first year without Robert. I really wanted to see you and Izzy again too, but my car broke down. Even if I had the extra cash for the tow and the cab I’d never make my flight--” The stranger trails off, and though his back is turned Magnus can hear the emotion choking his words. “Just tell Max and Izzy I’m sorry. I’ll call later.” 

Magnus waits a moment or two before turning to face the man on the other side of the bar again, taking back his phone. 

“Thanks,” the stranger says with another sigh, eyeing the liquor behind the bar. “Can I get a shot of whiskey? It’s going to be a long walk home.” 

Magnus nods, fighting the urge to talk; to do what bartenders are  _ expected _ to do in this scenario, even though he definitely doesn’t care about the sad, stunning man doing shots of whiskey while stranded at his bar on Christmas Eve. Not at all. 

Not until the man nearly chokes on the shot, only managing a wincing half-sip before looking like he just bit into a lemon. Magnus has to actively hold back the instinctive laughter. “I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you’re not a whiskey man?” 

“I’m not much of a drinker in general,” the stranger admits. “But I figured it’d warm me up a bit.” 

Magnus caves. “You said your car broke?” He asks despite his better judgment. 

“Yeah. I was supposed to go home for Christmas for the first time in… five years now, I think?” He tries the whiskey again, a little more prepared for the bite this time. “I kind of fucked things up back home, then my parents escalated it, and long story short I left town for college and never came back. This was supposed to be the first year I saw them again… second chances and all that. But I guess I’ll just pick up some extra shifts at work instead.” The guy looks down at the now-empty glass in resignation. “One more for the road?” 

Magnus obliges, and this time the stranded stranger knocks it all back in one proper go, still wincing and shuddering a bit as he swallows. Magnus can see how torn up he is over the situation and his thoughts drift towards his own father: he doesn’t even know where he is to try and reach out to him even if he wanted to. Which he doesn’t. Not after--

Magnus is torn from his thoughts when the guy across the bar speaks up abruptly.  “Anyway, I should go. How much do I owe you?” 

Magnus frowns slightly while remembering the words he spoke on the phone about not having the extra money for the tow or a cab to the airport. Granted, that would be considerably more expensive than a few shots of low-end whiskey, but still... 

“It’s on the house.” 

The man looks surprised. “Really? Are you sure, I have-” 

“Really. Don’t worry about it.”  Magnus repeats the offer in a way that makes it very clear he won’t say it a third time. 

The stranger lingers a moment before nodding, pushing himself away from the bar. “Thanks. Happy Holidays.” And there’s something in the gratitude behind those hazel eyes at the small act of kindness, even in the face of everything else he’s dealing with, that tugs at Magnus’ heartstrings a little. 

“Yeah,” Magnus replies. “Happy Holidays.” This earns him a few funny looks from his regulars around the bar, and it isn’t lost on the stranger as he makes his way back out into the snow that there isn’t a single decoration in or on the entire building. Magnus waits until he’s out of the door before not-so-subtly wandering back to where he can see the guy cross the street through the window. The tall man stops beside a dark car, struggles to get a duffle bag that’s half his size out of his trunk and over his shoulder before shutting the trunk, lastly giving the car a kick out of obvious frustration before turning to start down the street. 

Magnus watches. He hesitates. He takes a deep breath. And then, without a single word, he reaches for his red coat and slides it on, grabbing something from the register and shoving it in his pocket before heading out into the snow after the stranger. 

\----

Alec can’t believe his luck. Maybe it’s a sign. He’s willing to give his mom a second chance and the benefit of the doubt now that Robert is out of the picture and Izzy promises him that Maryse is much better now, swearing she’s really, truly looking to make amends. It was bad enough to learn that Robert was cheating on her after Alec left, but to find out she  _ knew _ and stayed anyway was almost too much for him to forgive on top of his own grievances. Now that they’re separated and his mom is dating Luke she does seem better, and it’s obvious how much of her opinions of him after his engagement debacle were shaped by having Robert at her side. He thought this year he could try to extend that olive branch… 

Maybe this is the universe telling him it isn’t time just yet. He thought he was ready - he really felt like things were lining up to be alright again - but maybe he’s wrong. 

The whiskey warms his chest as he grabs the bag from his car, giving the side of the broken vehicle a kick for good measure. “Cheap piece of shit,” he mutters bitterly, not sure what else he really expects from a car nearly as old as he is. Honestly, he’s lucky it lasted him as long as it did. 

Alec’s already trying to convince himself this is fine. He hasn’t seen her in years, not since he broke off his engagement to Lydia the day of the wedding. He still isn’t sure what made his parents more furious: the embarrassment of him waiting until the last moment or the revelation after the fact that it was because he’s gay. Either way, the fallout was so spectacular that he left and never looked back… not until now. 

The truth is that he’s been looking forward to this for months. He misses his family. He forgave them long ago, probably earlier than he should have, and he needs to be certain that they forgive him, too. A flight home for three days was the best he could manage with the way he’s been working to pay for school on top of the classes he’s taking, and now he has no idea when his next chance to get home may be. 

But it’s fine. Maybe he can work something out for over the summer... what’s another Christmas alone after this many, anyway? 

He’s ready to start the long walk back to his apartment when he sees something moving towards him - no, not something,  _ someone _ . A figure in a bright red coat which stands out in stark contrast to the whiteout surrounding them is crossing the street and it doesn’t take him long to recognize the bartender. 

“What time is your flight?” The bartender asks without preamble. 

“What?” Alec asks back, thrown by the sudden question. 

“What time is your flight? How long do you have to get to the airport?” He repeats with a huff of impatience, as if he’s already regretting his decision to come out here. 

Alec glances at his watch. “A little under two hours.” 

The bartender reaches into the pocket of the red coat and takes out a messy cluster of bills. It’s a twenty or two, some tens, but mostly fives and ones. It’s everything from the register that day. “Take a cab. If you bribe them with a good tip they won’t stall for extra fare time. Traffic probably won’t be too bad this late, you should be able to make it.” 

“I couldn’t.” Alec takes a step back while shaking his head. “And I have to find a tow before I leave.” 

The older man hesitates, clearly considering this additional roadblock in his plan for the first time.  “...leave me your keys?” 

Alec laughs in disbelief. “What?!” He has to be joking, right? He doesn’t really expect him to just hand his keys over to a stranger, does he? 

“Leave me your keys,” the bartender repeats again, with more conviction this time. “What, do you think I’m going to steal your broken down dinosaur of a --  _ Jesus _ is that a Buick? How do you even drive that boat in the city?” 

Alec narrows his eyes. The bartender clears his throat and shrugs apologetically. “Sorry. Look, one of my regulars inside owns a shop. We’ll tow it there and you can sort it out when you get back. He’ll give you the fairest price in the city, you have my word.”

He has no reason to trust this guy besides the fact that he was nice enough to let him borrow a phone and not pay for drinks, and Alec can’t help but doubt this much unwarranted kindness, even during the holidays. “Why? I mean it’s nice of you to offer and all, but you don’t even know me.”

Something shifts in the man’s expression. He looks like he’s about to share something personal, give a little insight to his motivations, but just as quickly it’s gone. If Alec isn’t so positive of what he saw he may believe it’s just a trick of the streetlights above them. 

“Look, I’m not going to offer twice. Just… take it. Go home. See your family.” 

The look in his eyes may be gone but something is still there in his voice: a mixture of fondness and sadness, Alec thinks he hears, wondering if the bartender’s thoughts are on his own family just then. 

Alec looks down at the money in the man’s hand and decides to take it. 

“I’ll pay you back.” Alec promises, hope springing to life in his chest where only regret and disappointment lingered moments before. Alec reaches into his own pocket for his keys and slides the one for the car off the ring, handing it over to the bartender. 

“I’m not asking you to. Don’t worry about it.” The bartender turns and heads back across the street without another word. 

“Thank you!” Alec calls out after him. It doesn’t even occur to him that he never got the bartender’s name before he disappears back inside the bar, leaving Alec to flag down the cab that miraculously passes by that very moment. 

_ This, _ Alec realizes with a smile.  _ This is the sign I needed. _

\-----

It’s a week later, New Year’s Eve, and there isn’t a soul in sight at Magnus’ little bar on the outskirts of the city. All of his regulars are home by now; anyone wandering by is trying to make their way closer to the action in Times Square and not paying his little hole in the wall a second glance. He’s getting ready to lock up - half of the chairs are flipped upside down to rest on the tables and most of the lights are already out - when there’s the familiar sound of the bell above the door. 

“I’m closing up for the--” Magnus starts, but stops abruptly when he sees who it is. 

It’s the guy from Christmas Eve. 

“Oh, sorry. I can come back tomorrow…” The tall stranger trails off, already looking down at his feet as he turns to leave as quickly as he came. 

“Wait!” Magnus calls out, but when the stranger turns back around Magnus realizes he has no follow-up for stopping him until he remembers the car that’s been . “Uh, your car’s fixed but the shop’s closed until the 2nd. I hope that’s alright.” 

“It’s more than alright. Thank you,” the guy says. “For everything. Really, I can’t even begin to tell you how much it meant for me to see my family this year. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me and I don’t even know your name.” 

“It’s Magnus.” 

“Alec.” The stranger - Alec - supplies. “Nice to properly meet you.” Alec smiles, and it’s enough to make Magnus forget what he was doing only a moment before; he’s still awkwardly holding a chair in his hand and it takes him a few seconds to remember to set it down on the table to clear the floor for the morning’s sweeping. “Need some help with those?” Alec motions to the chairs left around the tables. 

Magnus shrugs. “Sure,” he agrees, trying not to sound too eager. “Thanks.” At first there’s a bit of awkward silence. They don’t know each other. Their last interaction before this was Magnus shoving a handful of money into his hands and walking away, but not before taking the key to his car. This isn’t the typical set-up to any sort of friendship. But after a minute or two Magnus asks how the trip home went, and Alec tells him a bit more about his family, hesitating at the bit about being gay but going on eagerly when it doesn’t phase Magnus in the slightest. 

Instead of actually leaving once the chairs are up Magnus pours them both a drink, which turns into two drinks, and the two of them are in the middle of laughing over something one of them said when all at once the sound of cheers and noise makers and fireworks spills into the city streets around them. 

It’s New Years. 

They both waver, locking eyes, searching for the answer to the same question. There’s something here. Each of them is certain that they feel it on their end, but does the other? Magnus is the first to move closer, almost imperceivably, but Alec’s quick to close the rest of the gap once he makes the first move. The taste of the sweet liquor of Alec’s cocktail mixes with the darker smokey notes of Magnus’ scotch as their lips meet, tentative at first then more confident as hands reach out to smooth up and down arms or thread through hair. 

They only pull back when Magnus leans forward a bit too far and Alec nearly falls backward off of his bar stool, causing them both to break into barely-contained fits of laughter. 

“I should get going,” Alec reluctantly admits, glancing at the clock. “Getting a cab at this point is  going to take forever.” 

“You could stay,” Magnus offers quickly. He doesn’t want Alec to leave. He thought about that kind smile and those warm hazel eyes every day since Christmas Eve, and the more he gets to know him the more he’s drawn into every facet of his personality. He wants to let him in and he doesn’t know why - but only if he can be certain Alec isn’t going to leave like all the others. God, he can’t let himself get hurt like that again. It’s a risk, one Magnus has closed himself off to for years now, but one impromptu midnight kiss has him certain it’s one worth taking. “I live above the bar, no travel required. And I promise to be a gentleman; I’ll take the sofa, you can have the bed.” 

Alec considers the offer for several long, agonizing seconds, and for a moment Magnus is convinced he’s going to say no - which will be disappointing but not surprising. They’re still practically strangers, after all. 

But instead of turning him down, Alec counters with an unexpectedly coy:  “...and what if I were to say I don’t  _ want  _ you to be a gentleman?” 

“If you insist,” Magnus deadpans. “Then I can take the bed and you can have the sofa.” 

When Alec starts to laugh again Magnus can’t help but break his perfectly executed serious expression to join in. He honestly can’t remember the last time he laughed this much, and it isn’t until he thinks idly that Catarina would like Alec that he realizes how far gone he is already.   

If Alec catches the soft look of surprise that crosses Magnus’ face at the realization it only helps to make up his mind. 

“Lead the way.” 

**Author's Note:**

> (Find me on [Tumblr! ](http://bytheangell.tumblr.com))


End file.
